


Bermuda

by bzx93



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cheating, First Time, Infidelity, M/M, Maybe a little OOC, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:33:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8912908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzx93/pseuds/bzx93
Summary: Lori found comfort with Shane, then Rick returned miraculously and her prayers were answered. Now, another connection is forming. Triangles have three sides, right?





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, so I started watching TWD and to say that it's taken over my life might be an understatement. I got the idea for this as I neared the end of the second season and I thought that I should try writing something! It'll be a short series of chapters, so there's more to come. Comments are always appreciated, enjoy!

The humid, midsummer heat rose along with the incessant buzzing of insects hovering just above the wispy edges of grass that spread itself far and wide across Hershel's land. Clouds crawled lazily in the pale blue afternoon sky while blanketing pieces of the ground in grey shadows. Wiping absently at the sweat beading above his brow, Rick resumed his task of loading one of the group's small pistols with ammunition. The room he occupied was sparsely decorated, a rather homely and comforting space. He blinked away some sweat that managed to roll down to his eye and mumbled some words of annoyance. The grey, short sleeve shirt he wore billowed around him occasionally when the wind breathed heavily through the room’s half-opened window and despite the unrelenting heat, his dark-wash jeans hugged his legs comfortably.

One would think that he was simply working diligently, however, Rick had actually been loading then unloading the same pistol for the past hour. Or was it two hours? Three? He wasn't sure anymore. This wasn't like him, to dwell on things of the past. Yet here he was, alone in a room on the second floor of Hershel's large home, sitting on the edge of a bed doing the same thing over and over again. He remembered something that he'd heard a long ways back, it went somewhere along the lines of, 'How do you define insanity? Doing the same thing repeatedly with the same results and expecting them to change.'

Maybe that wasn't it exactly, but Rick didn't care. What did he expect the pistol to turn into? A cure to the infection that turned their lives upside down? An answer to why he kept having the dream night after night? At the moment, Rick found the latter to be more desirable. Even though Carl was more than healed and back to his normal self, Rick always found himself jolted awake at night by that piercing gunshot whose bullet tore through that soft, delicate deer and slammed his son down to the forest's leafy floor.

Everything was okay now, so why wouldn't his mind let go of that memory? Rick wished so dearly that he could just file it away in the deepest, darkest recesses of his brain and throw away the key. He let out a pained sigh, his bright blue eyes clouding over with uncertainty. Setting the pistol down, Rick decided that a shower might do him some good. Just five minutes of nice, cool water raining down on him... He promised to no one in particular that he wouldn't be long. 

x

"Man..." Rick said to himself quietly as he stepped out of the shower, pushing its off-white curtains aside. When was the last time a shower felt this refreshing? The corners of his mouth turned up into somewhat of a smile as he reached out to grab the towel he'd set atop the toilet's closed lid. He'd just begun drying his arms and chest when the bathroom door swung open, stopping him in his tracks. 

It was Shane. He'd been chuckling to himself about something when he'd opened the door, his crooked grin crumbling as he took in the sight before him. His dark brown eyes darted from Rick's own, down to the towel precariously hanging on his arm, down to--

"Shane!" Rick's booming voice brought him back. Shane looked down at his feet, looking for words that seemed to constantly elude him.

"Shit, ah, man, I'm- I'm sorry, I'm just gonna-" He didn't finish, instead choosing to hurriedly turn back the way he came, shutting the door behind him. Leaning against the wall adjacent to the bathroom, Shane ran his hand across his head, an old habit he had whenever he found himself in particularly difficult situations. Why the hell didn't Rick lock the door? Not wanting to linger and risk encountering Rick again so soon, Shane sauntered off down the hallway, in search of another bathroom.

Rick held onto the towel while he let his hand fall to his side. He brought his brows together pensively. He tried to steady his nerves, telling himself that even now, these kinds of things happened. They were human, and humans make mistakes. Embarrassing ones. Slowly, Rick went back to drying himself, unable to fully shake to novel feeling of Shane's lingering gaze. 

x

An even shade of velvety black presented itself as the night sky above the farm, a week breeze rustling everyone's hair and clothes. Hershel and Rick's groups seated themselves in a haphazard circle right on the ground around a modest fire a few yards from the house. Thanks to Glenn and Maggie (secretly Carol as well), they were happily eating dinner and reminiscing about days when it was only unpaid bills or being grounded that struck fear in their hearts. Side conversations blended with one another and became another steady, incomprehensible element of the night. 

Having only eaten half of his food, Rick used his fork to push apart then bring together a small mountain of mashed potatoes near the edge of his plate. Beside him, Lori took note of this and nudged him with her knee. Her eyes studied him intently.

"What's eatin' you?" She wondered in a low tone. Rick looked at her, smiling weakly. He patted her thigh reassuringly and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Nothin'. I'm just not sure Glenn seasoned these potatoes quite right."

"I heard that!" Glenn shouted from across the now smoldering embers. Lori giggled and playfully punched Rick in his arm.

"Be nice!"

"What? 'S there somethin' wrong with bein' honest?" Rick protested with no evidence of seriousness. 

"No, but there's somethin' wrong with bein' rude!" 

"I'll keep that in mind for a rainy day." He breathed a figurative sigh of relief when he saw the last traces of concern leave Lori's face. He wasn't in a let's-talk-about-this-all-night kind of mood. That day with Carl and the deer clung to him like a leech, siphoning his mental strength with each passing moment. He looked around as he tried to settle his mind on other things, his eyes accidentally catching Shane's in the process. 

They watched each other, Rick's nerves fraying the longer they did so. He was the first to look away, clearing his throat. Deciding to finish his food, he kept his eyes low and didn't dare to raise them.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive any typos, I wrote this very late at night.. Anyways, enjoy and comment ~!

"Still can't sleep?" Lori wondered groggily, turning onto her side to look upon her husband's back. Head in his hands, he carefully weighed his options as to what his reply should be as he sat on the mattress' edge. Rather than being woken by the sound of a bullet tearing through air, it was a gaze that was felt to linger a bit longer than warranted. It was just bad timing, Rick told himself. But, why didn't Shane just leave right away? The more he mulled it all over, the more erratically his heart hammered away in his chest. 

 

"Hey, you've gotta talk to me," Lori pleaded, her voice projecting more clearly. Her mousy-brown hair was tousled lightly from sleep, the white bedsheets messily draped over her waist. She pulled up her black tee and moved a little closer to Rick. He felt the shifting depression on the bed, but didn't look behind him. His words were muffled as he spoke hesitantly into his palms.

 

"Don't worry. 'S nothin'." The white ribbed tank grew then shrunk around Rick's torso when he took in and let out a painstakingly slow breath. 

 

"I'm gonna go for a walk," Rick sighed, getting up to leave. Frowning, Lori resigned herself to bidding a disgruntled farewell. 

 

Rick shut the door behind him and made sure he heard a soft 'click' before heading down the long stretch of hallway. There wasn't a concrete destination he had in mind, if he really wanted to be honest with himself. He just wanted a clear head in order to escape the suffocating prison in which his thoughts kept him hopelessly ensnared. 

 

Without realizing it, Rick found himself standing against a looming, ancient oak tree not too far from the house. The remnants of the outdoor feast from just few hours ago sat on the ground and gave him something to focus on, much to his relief. His eyes cut up suddenly to locate the source of the faint crunching of dirt beneath a shoe. Upon discovering the origin, his chest felt unnervingly tight.

 

Whatever paltry slivers of moonlight that broke through the night's clouds rested on various areas of Shane's body, leaving the rest darkened. His navy blue button-up shirt exposed only a little of his collar bones and solid, toned chest. His jeans complemented the shape and motion of his legs well, maybe a little too well. But wait, why was that worth noting? Rick steeled himself against these thoughts, preparing to make insincere small talk. 

 

Shane planted himself a few feet in front of his friend and crossed his arms in front of him. 

 

"Need somethin'?" Rick's question left his mouth with more pointed annoyance than he wanted, cursing inwardly at himself. 

 

"Geez, man, I was just comin' out here to apologize about earlier, but never mind." 

 

"Earlier?" What was he doing? Rick knew damn well what 'earlier' meant, was he purposefully being a cheeky asshole? Shane chose not to voice any of that, instead just cocking his head to the side in a 'Are you serious?' sort of gesture.

 

"Oh, the, uh, bath... Bathroom. 'S all good. Forget about it."  

 

"'Kay. Don't stay out here long," Shane replied as he looked down and kicked at the ground lightly with the tip of his boot. 

 

"You my keeper now?" Rick questioned, walking up to Shane with a small grin and shoving him as he left to return to the solace of Hershel's home. They weren't totally straightened out, but Rick's nerves had finally begun to steady themselves. Just then, Shane's rough, calloused hand shot out to halt Rick from taking another step. Apprehension flickered in the piercing blue eyes that stared back at him. 

 

"I know what's botherin' you."

 

"The hell you do." Rick tore his wrist from Shane immediately and took off at a brisk pace toward the house, leaving Shane under the lonesome cover of darkness outside.

 

X

 

Rick rubbed the back of his neck while he stood in front of the kitchen sink, silently fuming. He scoffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief. Great, just  _ great _ . Is Shane some sort of psychic now, trying to read his mind? ‘I know what’s botherin’ you.’ Like hell he knew anything. That was just like Shane, always trying to start shit when there wasn’t any. What happened to minding your own damn business? There was nothing to discuss and Rick had almost let himself accept this, except he couldn’t. Maybe he was insane. Maybe--

 

“Hey.” Rick spun around and felt his heart plummet to the very soles of his feet. His hands trembled at a hardly noticeable rate, yet he was sure his knees would buckle at the weakest touch. He couldn’t escape.

 

“Shane, you’ve gotta go,” Rick warned unconvincingly. 

 

“Do I?”

 

“Yes.” Shane seemed to walk towards Rick in slow motion. No matter how hard he willed it, Rick’s legs ignored each and every signal to get moving and help him slip away.

 

“I’m not quite sure I want to.”

 

“ _ I  _ want you to.”

 

“Only if you tell me what’s botherin’ you.” Shaking his head, Rick wordlessly begged Shane not to do this. Closer still Shane came.

 

“You’re embarrassed. I get that.”

 

“No.” Shane stopped walking. Hardly a foot separated them now.

 

“You’re curious.” 

 

“Shane...” 

 

“Tell me to go, and I will.” Shane eased himself up to Rick, placing his hands on either side of him atop the cool, metallic sink. Rick could only look up, frozen in place. He could feel Shane’s eyes seeing into parts of his soul that he had sworn to shut off to anyone and everyone. 

 

“Well?” The low timbre of Shane’s voice spurred Rick into action as he brought his mouth within a hair of Shane’s. His eyes closed almost entirely, succumbing to the intoxicating effect of Shane’s presence. 

 

“Please go.” Rick’s lips brushed against Shane’s when he spoke, electrifying each and every inch of his body and mind. 

 

“Your call.” Shane backtracked a few steps, turning away and finally disappearing into the dark.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the length, or I guess lack thereof... There was something I really wanted to convey in this chapter and once I did, I felt like anything else I added was out of place. Well, without further ado, enjoy!

Never had Rick been so thankful to lay his eyes on a bottle of whiskey. Ever since Hershel took up drinking again, albeit not often, the presence of alcohol in the house was now commonplace. The dark liquid only filled its fragile glass container half way, but Rick was sure that he wouldn't finish it all. Reaching out and taking it from its spot within a cupboard in the kitchen, he walked over to a small, cherry wood table and dropped down onto a chair. 

 

Rick unscrewed the ornate cap and set it down gently beside the whiskey bottle. He looked into the murky liquid, swirling it around and around as he held the bottle. Lifting it up to his mouth, it nearly touched his tongue when he swiftly set it back down, hanging his head. His long fingers combed back through his soft, curly hair in one, languid motion. He couldn't let himself turn into a cliche, drinking away his feelings. 

 

His feelings. His mind. His thoughts. No, no, they couldn't be  _ his _ , not now, not ever. The bathroom incident was jarring enough, but to then be confronted like he was, if one could even call it that, well, Rick was sure that he was as crazy as crazy could be. Shane was his best friend, his partner, so of course he felt at ease around him. Or at least he used to. God dammit. Rick avoided turning the proverbial mirror in on himself because he already knew what he would find. 

 

Returning the whiskey to where he found it, Rick fought off the sudden wave of fatigue that washed over him and carried himself all the way back the bedroom he'd left Lori in. 

 

“Had a good wallk?” Lori asked.

 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Saw an owl.”

 

“An owl?”

 

“Yeah, it was big and...  Brown.”

 

“Wow,  and I bet water is wet too,” she quipped, her smile evident in her voice.

 

“Whatever,” Rick shot back, partially amused.

 

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

 

“Thanks. Night.” He yawned lazily as he crawled beneath the sheets and prayed only for sleep to take him. 

 

x 

 

"Jesus, Rick, what the hell is wrong with you!?" cried Andrea, her eyes ablaze with wild fury. She charged him and nearly took him down had Dale not caught up with her and pulled her aside, whispering warnings to back off. Her blond hair whipped around at breakneck speed when she turned to glare at Dale.

 

"Don't tell me to cool it, tell him to quit trying to bury bullets in my head!"

 

"I said I was sorry, Andrea! I really am, okay? I'm just... Not focused, I guess," Rick confessed sheepishly. He, Andrea, Carl, Carol, Dale, Lori, and Shane were gathered near the edge of Hershel's property doing some target practice when Rick had accidentally fired a shot dangerously close to Andrea's ear. At the moment, this was now his second infraction and almost was his death sentence if not for Dale. 

 

Not a puff of white was in the crystal clear azure sky and birds sang cheery chorus throughout the fields. The wind was also missing, leaving the trees and grass so still that it was otherworldly. In other words, the perfect setting for blasting targets from great distances. However, this pristine peace vanished and was replaced with rising voices and clashing personalities. 

 

"Listen, why don't we call it a day? Just take a break and do somethin' else, I don't know. We don't need to be out here at each other's throats like this." The ever-present voice of reason, Shane intervened and went around gathering guns from everyone. Rick offered his up whilst skirting his gaze away from those familiar brown eyes. Once all the weapons were collected, everyone took off in various directions to do whatever it was they desired.

 

Rick made it his mission to get as far away from Shane as he could as inconspicuously as possible. Although he kept his head facing straight ahead toward the house, he listened for closely following footsteps. Why wasn't Shane behind him? Where was that pressure around his wrist? More importantly, why did he expect to be stopped? He told Shane to go the night before, and Shane kept his word and his distance. 

 

A wild notion materialized in Rick's head. The threshold of logic and reason would be more than surpassed if he entertained it. Tears would follow. Heartbreak would manifest. Betrayal would seat itself at the dinner table. Rick weighed this and all other consequences and reached the apex of his decision. Temptation met him there and coaxed him out of the threshold, silencing the pleas of regret.


End file.
